#especially if she feels like she’s cleaning up my mess which is ironic
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astrifurious · 1 year ago
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I’m starting to feel that kinda soured our friendship a little ngl…I can only feel so bad / guilty / angry when I tried to organize things to go smooth regarding cleaning out this place and the lack of communication about scheduling conflicts on her end made it so we didn’t clean this place together. and there’s STILL a chance I would’ve ripped my old coat rack out the wall like I did even if she was present, but I did try to talk to her after she informed us she exhausted herself too much to help me and my other roommate clean. I tried, and I got frustrated with her, and now she’s frustrated with me, and now I’m not as interested in making an effort to hang out with her more than I already committed to once our lease ends.
which is sad, because I know she struggles with not feeling wanting / being a friend of convenience but this exchange highlighting a mistake I can’t fix as an outlet of frustration + predicting my one mistake will cost a four digit deposit is such a fucking irritant for me…
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cemeteryvalentine · 2 months ago
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astro observations part 4 !!! ^____^
(specifically based off my family :3 pleaseee don't get offended at anything that doesn't resonate)
🗝️: one thing about a sag placement, they are gonna hang up FIRST !!! i swear, if anyone misses flip phones, it's a sag placement/dominant. i just know they miss snapping that phone shut in a petty manner LOL. my mom is a sag moon AND rising, and she'd call me and demand me to do something in such a bitchy tone and then hang up on me like girl who tf do u think u areee 😭😭😭😭 LMFAO. but honestly good for her, i love being petty like her.
like i swear i take after my mom because everytime she does that annoying hang up before i can respond thing, i call her again just to say a snarky remark, and hang up on her back!
🐇: i swear, virgo placements have no problem being the grossest people alive, but suddenly it's a problem when someone else does it :/// it's really annoying. my brother has a pigsty of a bedroom, doesn't wash his hand when he pisses unless i make him, and leaves his trash everywhere, but constantly gets on my sister for the same things 😭. like the calls coming from inside the house !!! i think basically, (some) virgos are like picky(?) with what areas they'd want clean. like they're only really comfortable with THEIR mess and no one else's.
🗝️: i love how pisces mercury communicate because it's like what the hel are u awn about 😭 in the NICEST way though :3 they're so kewl and interesting to talk to, plus they're so nice and understanding. maybe because they're water mercuries after all. speaking of, my favorite artist ever kurt cobain was a pisces mercury and it SHOWSSS. a lot of nirvana lyrics feel artistic and metaphoric, or just realllyyyy silly. liiike "angel left wing, right wing, broken wing. lack of iron and or sleeping" from milk it, one of my nirvana faves. and "i vomit C*M and DIARRHEA". like girl whatever that means !!!! (song, mexican seafood)
🐇: mars influence on the asc makes for prominent features. especially eyebrows. my brother has an aries rising and he has such a bad case of RBF. i swear he never looks happy 😭 his virgo sun and cap moon definitely don't help at all either. then im a mars rising and i have big eyebrows like my brother. like we're the only ones with big eyebrows, while our parents brows look invisible LOL. also i'm a virgo rising !! and ppl are always saying i look mad which honestly pisses me off :P so in conclusion, mars influence + virgo placements = major rbf
🗝️: i HATE to add on to the cancer hate train since i'm one myself and i loveee being one + we get soo much hate, but i feel a (unevolvled) cancer makes for the worst pick me girl ever !!!! this def doesn't apply to all cancers, but the few cancer women i know can be so mean to other women so unprovoked. especially my mom, it gives me the ick when she calls random women b*tches or makes fun of them to me for their features or success or soemthing. i used to be a pick me too up until i was like 13 (im soooo happy i grew out of that mess QUICK!). i would constantly strive for male attention, it was embarrassing 😭. ik another girl who values her shitty boyfriend over her (girl) friends and i haaate it. like ive only known a few cancer women, but a lot of them are like the meanest pick me bitch ever, or such a sweeet, caring soul :). i feel like being a pick me stems from cancers being feminine AND traditional. yk? i pray i make sense, but yk how it's traditional for girls to be perfect for her man, and value him no matter the circumstance ?? and cancer/moon being **traditional** ? yeahhh 😭
anywayzzz that's all :3 tyyy for reading !! i had sm making a new observations, considering it's been a year since my last LMFAOO. and again, if it doesn't apply, let it fly. ty bye ^__^
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yuwuta · 2 months ago
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i fear there are only few of us left who gaf about eren :/ do u think anything else about him im so deprived
ofc ofc ofc that’s my baby ://///// i think about him all the time always <33
His niche of skills is based in homemaking and actual home-making as in construction because when he would act up as a kid, those were the punishments Carla gave him LOL. He got into a fight at school and she’d make him chop wood and start a fire. He was rude to her or Mikasa and she forced him to iron everyone’s clean laundry and fold it after. He made a mess being reckless when she told him to do his homework and she sent him outside to go lay new bricks around the well. All of which reigned him in by the time he was 12ish, and then he started just… doing it for fun or doing it preemptively before his attitude got out of hand. He’d have a bad day at school, and his mom would come home to him mowing the lawn or planting new trees or fixing the plumbing or fixing that broken leg on the chair or cleaning the gutter or harvesting the vegetables or fixing that crack in the wall; it becomes a sort of outlet for him. So now, occasionally you’ll see Eren run his fingers across a cracked wall or chipped piece of furniture and him mumbling some home depot jargon to himself about how he could fix it and whatnot. And he can. He proves to be very useful when your landlord is a deadbeat, and very attractive when he just decides to sit in the living room and put your furniture together.
He’s not a terrible cook, but he’s not a great one either. With effort, he can follow a recipe but there’s always something off. Except maybe one or two dishes from his childhood that he can make perfectly. They’re the first things he ever cooks for you. He’s not that bad when it comes to baking, much to everyone’s surprise. He makes a pretty decent cupcake. Also, whenever he does cook, or just helps you cook, he wears an apron.
If you asked him, he’d say cheek kisses are his favorite. He likes giving them, but he likes receiving them even more. There’s just something so sweet about it… you’re so gentle with him sometimes it stuns him, and something about kissing his cheek is so pure that it makes Eren stop and wonder how one person could make him so happy. His favorite kind of kisses to give you are forehead kisses, especially if he’s taller than you. It makes him feel like he can protect you, reminds him he has something to fight for.
Terrified of thunder and lightning but he refuses to admit it. Whenever it’s raining, he finds himself curled up on the couch, preferably laying on top of you and sleeping away as much of the day/night as he can. Sometimes he just wants his head on your lap and your hands in his hair; something else to focus on other than the sounds outside. But, admittedly, he likes it when you play with his hair on any day.
Has your last name saved as his last name in his phone. Also definitely doodled your name with his last name in his notebooks as a kid with hearts and kisses around it.
Not a morning person in the slightest and he will make it everybody’s problem. He can be such a scrooge in the morning, no matter what or when he eats or wakes up. You just have to ease him into the day, let him flop on you and lean against you and a kiss or two couldn’t hurt.
He’s a terrible gossip. And he likes to start drama. Messy in every sense of the word. He wants all the tea, he wants names and dates and receipts, and if he has the chance to stir the pot just know that he WILL! The boys are all bitter that Eren is the one who gets invited to girls night but he simply makes himself one of the girls (and he’s so willing to sell out Jean or Connie if it means he gets a seat at the table). Plus, he makes pretty good tea and supplies the desserts, and is everyone’s handyman—he built this gossip session brick by brick.
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navybrat817 · 1 year ago
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It's a Ginger Thing
Pairing: Soft Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: Feeling a bit stir crazy from your daily routine, you share an idea with Nick that may be good for the other wives. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Implied smut, noncon/dubcon elements (you have been warned), gaps in memory, gaslighting, coercion, creepy vibes, Nick Fowler (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Nick and Ginger's Intro for my Disturbia AU! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Nick took you to the gym at the same time each day before he went to work. Exercising was your favorite part of your daily routine. It gave you a chance to get out of the house, stay in shape, and have some time with your husband before he went on his way and you got to work on your chores. It was also a good way to get some of your frustrations out of your system, which you could only do so much through cleaning.
A good wife keeps a tidy home for her husband.
You pinched the bridge of your nose as you stopped in mid stretch. It was difficult to pinpoint why you weren’t overly fond of cleaning. It wasn’t that you didn’t like a put together home and you would never look down on anyone who thrived on being a stay-at-home spouse. But it wasn’t a way for you to flourish. It was as if one day you just decided to give up on your wants without a second thought.
What did I want to do before we moved to The Haven? I had goals, didn’t I? Ambition?
You sometimes liked to imagine that you wanted something more beyond the duties of a housewife. Something exciting or a job that could help people in some way. It was possible to support Nick in the ways he needed while having something of our own. Was that too much to ask?
Yes. Because Nick helps so many with his job, along with taking care of me. Supporting him should be enough.
“What’s wrong?” Nick asked when you quickly finished stretching.
“Nothing,” you said, putting your hands on your hips as his bright blue eyes focused on you. Seeing him in his workout clothes, the taut muscles defined through the fabric, made it difficult to concentrate. “Just don’t really think I’m up for doing any housework today.”
“Your head bothering you?” he asked, taking a sip of water with an unwavering gaze.
Nick was a little different from some of the men you knew in the neighborhood. From what you observed, Steve ruled his home with an iron fist and he expected Cherry to fall in line. You had to bite back a retort more than once when you saw how he treated her, especially since she was so kind. Scott was one of the nicest guys on the block, but traditional in that he expected Rose to find fulfillment as a homemaker and future mother. Andy and Ruby, you still weren’t quite sure how they fit together, but they at least seemed happy.
But Nick? It didn’t bother him if you skipped cooking one night to order takeout or if you let laundry go for a day. The last time you snapped at him to put his own plate in the dishwasher, he laughed and bent you over the kitchen table until you were a drooling mess. All while telling you he loved the fire inside you. Because at the end of the day, he wanted you by his side and in his bed.
That was the only true rule he enforced: Don’t ever leave him.
And why would I? Nick Fowler is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.
“I think you went away there for a second,” he said.
“Sorry. Guess my head is bothering me,” you replied, graciously accepting the other bottle as he handed it over.
You never expected to crave fruit infused water, but it soothed the aches in your body. You once asked if he put muscle relaxers or something in your drinks since you always seemed to feel better once you had them. He said “yes” with the most serious expression before he winked. And you promptly dumped your drink out. He had to make them in front of you for a week straight before you took them again without question. It didn’t matter that it was a joke to him because you took it seriously.
Nick wouldn’t hurt me though. He loves me with his entire being.
“So, I was thinking,” you began, pausing to take a large sip.
“That can’t be good,” he joked, chuckling when you grabbed his towel to toss it at him. “Kidding! I was kidding. What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?”
I don’t know half the time and that scares me.
“I was thinking that it might be good if I taught the girls a little bit of self-defense. Maybe we can rent out a spot here? Or I can even teach it in our backyard?” You told him, giving him a pleading smile. “What do you think?”
“Why would you want to do that?” he asked, motioning for you to follow him to one of the sparring mats.
Where Nick goes, I’ll follow him.
“It would be good for me to break up my routine a little bit. I love our time here at the gym and it’s fun hanging out with the girls, but I think it might be good for all of us. I know that we live in a safe neighborhood, but you never know what'll happen.”
“I'm sure Ruby can defend herself just fine,” he joked, running a hand through his short hair. You could tell he was trying to get your attention on him and not the topic at hand.
“And what about Cherry and Rose?” you asked. “And didn’t you say someone is living with Bucky now? What about her?”
“Plum. We haven’t met her yet,” Nick shrugged a little. “I understand that you don’t want to stay home all the time, but I really don't see the need for a self-defense class. The others will probably feel the same way.”
“Of course, you don't see the need for it,” you snapped before you could stop yourself. “You know why? Because you're not here. Day in and day out, you get to leave and go to work. The other husbands get to leave. And the wives? We’re stuck here. It’s enough to drive me crazy.”
Don’t raise your voice at your husband.
A shuddering breath left your lungs when Nick clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. It reminded you of a nightmare you had before you moved into the neighborhood. Of him chasing you down and catching you with that same terrifying look before he fucked you into submission. There was an ache between your thighs when you woke up, but he assured you it was nothing more than a vivid, terrible dream.
You felt so bad about it that you ended up apologizing to him.
A good wife knows when to concede to her husband and chooses her battles wisely.
“Whatever it is that you're feeling, you don't need to take it out on me. I'm on your side,” he reminded you before he took a deep breath. “Look. I can’t make any promises that anyone will be okay with a self-defense class, but I’ll at least ask.”
“You will?” you asked in a softer voice, bringing your water to your lips and deflating a bit as the cool liquid flowed through your body.
“I will,” he promised, taking the drink away from you when you gave a smile. “May I offer a compromise in case they say no? An aerobics class? This way you can still get quality time with the girls here.”
That didn’t seem like a fair compromise to you. How would aerobics help the girls, besides staying in shape? But the smile Nick gave you was enough to back down the rising words in your throat.
Nick knows the best course of action.
“I’ll consider that,” you said, gasping when he kicked your feet out from under you. Luckily, you didn’t get the wind knocked out of you as you landed on your back. “Nick!”
“Always be aware of your surroundings, Ginger,” he smirked, joining you on the ground. He easily caught your wrists and pinned them above your head. The position left you vulnerable. “If you’re going to help these girls, you need to be able to help yourself.”
“I can,” you said through your teeth.
I’m not weak. I’m stronger than he thinks I am.
“Yeah? Then get out from under me or stay there and let me get you off,” he said, bending down to brush his lips against yours. “Or maybe I should leave you hanging for snapping at me.”
You moaned when he dipped his hips against yours. Was it the control he had that made him hard or the fact that anyone could walk into the gym and catch you? It wouldn’t be the first time. He liked it when others caught him fucking you.
He’s a proud husband and there’s nothing wrong with that.
“Sorry I snapped,” you whispered, arching your back when he tightened his grip on your wrists.
“Why don’t you let your pussy show me how sorry you are? Then I’ll believe you.”
Whatever Nick wants, he gets. And I’ll be happy to give it to him.
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Good life with Nick, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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dragonshoard · 13 days ago
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I've been brainstorming the conditions under which BB!Jinx would meet Vi, and one option I've come across is post-Shurima conflict and Silco's death (still up in the air on how THAT happens). Vi is released as a result of Caitlyn's newest project to burn out the corruption in Piltover's judicial system. Vi comes back to Zaun to try and find Powder, eventually running into Sevika who reveals that Silco killed Powder. As a note, Sevika does NOT know that Powder was revived and genuinely isn't lying to Vi knowingly. Not many Zaunites have actually seen Jinx's face at this point other than a few select individuals.
Vi crashes out. Hard. Going down the drinking and fighting route she did post-Cait break up.
I've mentioned before that Vi is also spirit-blessed in this AU. She's tempered iron and bedrock, an untapped potential forged to serve as a reliable foundation; someone capable of carrying the world on her shoulders even on the worst days.
(Some of this is pretty literal: her bones are very difficult to break and she's very good at taking hits.)
This connection to the arcane draws Jinx to her, who is somewhat disappointed at the state she finds her spirit-sister (ha). Jinx takes to patching her up when Vi gets especially banged up.
Here's a snippet of one of their interactions. Tis a work in progress.
Why is Jinx wearing a veil in addition to her feather cloak? Haven't figured that out quite yet - probably something along the lines of it not being entirely safe for her face to be out there at the moment or a religious trial of some sort. Either way, I realized it was way too easy for the hood of her cloak to be knocked down so I had to add an extra layer of security.
--x--
“Ya know, this is the fourth time I’ve had to drag you to the church in a month.” 
The arm in her grasp jerked away in an attempt to escape, but Jinx was used to dealing with unruly patients. It was easy to adjust her grip to keep a better hold of the injured limb and continue wrapping it in clean bandages. 
“Stop tensing. You’re going to end up with loose bandages and then where will all of my hard work have gone, huh,” Jinx scolded, pinching the singular uninjured part of the exposed shoulder.
“It’s not like I asked for your help.” The arm tensed again before visibly, forcefully, relaxing. If there was one thing Jinx appreciated her unwilling patient for, it was that despite complaining the brawler actually listened to instructions. 
“Don’t be ungrateful, shithead.”  snip
“I just don’t get why you’re going through all the trouble. You could do your hand-wavey healing magic and I’d be out of your hair in half the time.”
Jinx frowned, tempted to give the cocky bastard another pinch for the audacity but eventually settled for rolling her eyes. The humor was lost, of course, with the thick veil covering everything nose up, but it was the thought that counted! 
“Only people who don’t go around picking fights and making a mess of their pretty faces get a fancy healing session with me.” She slapped the adhesive just a bit harder on the bandage than necessary, feeling a glow of satisfaction at the responding flinch. “You, get to heal the old fashion way. Slowly,” Jinx cackled. 
“And here I thought you religious folk were supposed to be kind and worldly,.”
“Excuse you, I am the kindest person you will ever meet. I could’ve left your scruffy ass where I found it instead of hauling you all the way to my side of town.”
Jinx was careful with the remaining materials, quickly packing away the salvaged remains and sterilizing the needles she had used with a lighter. With a cursory look at her first aid pouch, Jinx realized that she would have to restock soon. 
“Seriously, you don’t have to keep wasting your supplies on me. I’ll get by.” 
Now, that sounded far too depressing for this early in the day. And that was disregarding the blatant day drinking that the older woman took part in. Jinx looked back up to make a joke but stopped short at the look on the other’s face. 
Ah, it was one of those days.
“Vi - “ she began, stopping for a second to try and find the right words.
She wasn’t - good at talking; had never picked up the talent despite how often she’d needed it - too cutting, too sarcastic, and entirely lacking in patience. She’d gotten better over the years, but it didn’t change that in times like these Jinx just wasn’t the best person to turn to, especially when dealing with jobs that went beyond the body. 
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willowpenguinwritting · 8 months ago
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I've got you---- A short Broadchurch fanfic
Well hello there, I've got myself fixated on Broadchurch again..... and well an Alec/Ellie idea came into my head so I had to write it obviously. The gif I chose I thought was actually almost like them if Ellie had purchased herself a pinkish maroon coat (I am really sorry I can't describe colours.... rhubarb perhaps?)
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It had started as an ordinary day for both Alec and Ellie, Their boss had called out "DI Hardy, my office." across their floor. In response to this most of their coworkers rolled their eyes before really thinking, since Ellie's promotion to detective inspector and also her marriage to Alec they had constantly got to witness the joy of the pair of them rushing around gathering papers and then franticly racing towards whoever had called them.
Some of their coworkers said they should have really made bets on them getting married, some even claimed to have said things to Ellie along the lines of "You'll turn into a DI Hardy if you're not careful." which now had only proved to be extremely ironic. If their coworkers were being honest after entering the relationship they seemed to only mess with eachother even more and if anything were even more professional than they were before.
Once the pair had both arrived at their boss's office she couldn't help but release a laugh and a small comment "I do simply adore how easy it is to summon you both to me." Alec rolled his eyes in response and Ellie had to suppress a giggle and the comment she so desperately wanted to make of how she could probably get Alec to do anything for her but Alec would say she was sounding too much like some of their coworkers who would eagerly taunt them at any given second.
"We received a call just minutes ago containing a possible case of robbery and I would like to send you both out to check the scene, the only issue is that the caller seemed to be in the belief that they stole very important government papers and also a gun." explained their boss.
Alec grumbled slightly whilst Ellie nodded taking a few notes in her notebook. To reach a clean page she had needed to flip past one of the pages that she hadn't written on but the messy scrawl of her husband's words filled the page. "You are beautiful" they read, Ellie was still in quite a bit of shock if she was honest about how much of a soppy romantic he could be.
"I have sent Alec the address to your satnav so head off right away." Their boss told them. Alec continued to roll his eyes but he held out Ellie's coat to her and then hastily sped down the stairs to the car park.
At this point in time Ellie could claim that she had now been trained to catch up with her ever-racing husband as he sprinted downstairs faster than she ever thought her legs could take her.
Once they were both sat in the car with their seatbelts buckled Ellie began to talk "So how are you feeling about all this? I can tell something is bothering you."
"The gun El, why did they take a gun? Were they feeling threatened by something?" Alec explained as he clicked the indicator to turn left.
Ellie hummed to herself for a bit, "Do you think they would still have it in their possession if we were to encounter them?"
"I wouldn't doubt it but if they have a large bulge in their trousers we should just assume it is a gun and not that they are pleased to see us." Alec joked.
His wife shook her head in disbelief "Oh my god I never should have let you watch Sherlock with Tom especially not scenes with Moriarty in them."
"Well I think the best thing for it is to just hope that we don't encounter them. I really wish we had more information to go on but we can't know much until we bloody arrive." Alec complained.
Ellie tried to create a reassuring smile in response but internally was unsure about whether or not it would actually be a good idea to say anything. Cases like these with little to no information to go on always agitated him but he claimed his anger fueled him so to let him be angry. At first, she hadn't realised how much his anger powered his job until he started seeing im outside of work more and that happiness and smile was something she felt sure she would never find again no matter how hard she looked.
Once they had reached their destination according to the navigation system Alec found them a place to park and then the pair departed from the car to walk up to the house with the supposed break in. It was a rather large house and was easily obvious that somone with at least a bit of money would live inside based off the gates alone. Alec opened the black metal gate and led Ellie in to the grounds. The gate swinged benhind them and shut with a cling.
"I think we should walk the perimiter before we knock on the door, get to know the exits and everything." Alec suggested. Ellie nodded in agreement and waited for Alec to lead their way walking as usual. Alec however did not instantly start to lead them, instead he grabbed onto Ellie's hand without any prior warning.
Confusion paints itself all across Ellie's face so in an attempt to reassure him she says "I am not scared you don't need to hold my hand."
"You might not be scared but I need to know you are here, especially with the possibility of a gun involved." Alec tried to explain in a rough whisper.
It takes a moment or so for Ellie to fully process what he said but by the time she has she informs him "I'm here, I've got you don't worry."
Alec then says "I know Tom's friends call you a badass or whatever and you can handle things yourself but that doesn't mean I don't worry." as they begin to walk around the house. Alec pauses on occasion to note down the location of any windows big enough to exit out of.
"I can't decide if you worrying about me is worrying or not," Ellie mutters under her breath.
Alec at this point is back into detective inspector mode so doesn't reply.
Once he believes he has constructed a suitable map of the house they head to the door. Ellie reaches her hand out to ring the doorbell. Alec lets go of Ellie's hand in an attempt to restore professionalism and that his wife is fine. They remain stood outside for another three minutes before Ellie asks "Should I try knocking, the bell might be broken?"
"I think we will have to force our way in," Alec sighs as he begins to twist the handle. Surprisingly it turns and allows them to push the door open and enter the house.
Ellie follows Alec into the house and slowly closes the door with a slight creak, "The door hasn't been oiled for a while, which could suggest a lack of care for the house or lack of use."
Alec nods in agreement and jots down a quick note about it. "I think our first step is going to have to be finding out who made the phone call to us it was only what fifteen minutes ago at max?"
"I'd say so." Ellie agrees, "So what are we looking for?"
Alec announced the mental list he had begun to construct "Any signs of forced entry to the property.... any signs of where the person who made the phone call to us is and... also possibly the phone they called the police from."
"Should I take upstairs and you take down?" Ellie asked making notes in her notepad of the things her husband mentioned.
Alec nodded in agreement and so Ellie began her journey up the polished wooden stairs. Alec was heading into what he believedeved to be the kitchen when he heard her call "Alec, I am in the third bedroom. I suggest you call for forensics."
Alec began to franticly click the phone button for their boss's number as he franticly climbed the stairs to reach where Ellie was. He pushed the door open to see his wife's shocked face and the body of a man lying accross what was a previously white duvet and pillow set.
Before finishing processing the body he began firing instructions at his boss to send backup and forensics NOW. Ellie bit her lip as she tried to observe what had happened.
"I think this might be the man who phoned us, Jenkinson didn't happen to mention if he finished the call abruptly but the smashed phone next to him suggests it could have been." Ellie explaied her findings.
Well, I don't have the time to work more on this right now but I might keep writing it at somepoint and publish a full version onto AO3.... the main intention of this was the hand holiding but I could always turn into a longer actual mystery.
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daisychainsandbowties · 2 years ago
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It has come to my attention that you're possibly maybe taking prompts? If you feel like it:
"Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness." Mary Oliver and any pairing you'd like.
a snippet (aka huge chunk) of my halo!lilith au
cw: blood, gore, violence
///
lilith collapses. she wants to describe her body as curling, but what it does, in fact, is curdle. It sours in her hands and in her knees and she is suddenly on the floor. no transition, no chronology.
one moment she is standing, dripping head to toe in blood, and the next she is staring at beatrice through the tomb of her strewn limbs. there’s a terrible noise inside her body. the halo scrapes against her spine, spilling thick tendrils of scarlet light down all the pathways of her arteries. she must look like those red dwarf stars, the ones beatrice told her about in her hazy half-asleep with the stars spread above them. all the constellations with their names.
'they cannot easily be observed,' her face scrunched up, the smell of canned soup going cold on their little gas stove. 'they aren't very luminous, you see, so despite their great numbers, most remain invisible to us.'
like me, lilith thought, trying to look away from beatrice, in case it might suddenly mean something. all of the looking.
she fades, watching beatrice wrench the blade of her spear from inside a body – a wet, suctioning sound like a mouth coming away from a nipple. none of her metaphors can keep clean in the mess they've made.
when she wakes up it is with the taste of iron and soot and something faintly sweet inside her mouth.
beatrice. bringing her back from the brink of unraveling with a kiss. bruise-hard, abandoned on her face – not like something worthless but like the kiss itself was too much to hold onto, like she had no choice but to leave it there.
the specter of her resolves, and lilith will forever describe her like this. a ghoul, a phantom, a dog-eared page in the strangeness of the world. something to which she is always returning. a shore, an ocean, a better reflection.
she is the first thing lilith sees, and she is not certain if her heart stopped beating - it feels too powerful, too frantic inside her - but she aches everywhere. especially at the points where Beatrice’s fingers score into her forearms, holding her loosely aloft off the concrete floor.
there is no one left alive in the room.
aside from us.
lilith shows beatrice all her pink teeth. it is not funny and the room is all shadows but the halo pinches her eyes - cruel mistress - and shows her snatches of the scene that unspools behind beatrice as she props lilith up against the wall, against the dripping brickwork.
she can only describe it like that - a scene.
and in front of it is beatrice. fluid leaking down her face.
(lilith tells herself it could be anything, in this light, but she knows. bodies are so full of water)
the warehouse is littered with objects. her mind wants to say with corpses but a foul, pedantic piece of her, no doubt transplanted directly from the girl who is holding her, argues that a corpse must be intact, somewhat.
the room, if strict definitions are adhered to, is full of body parts.
a torso decorating the gantry with one arm still attached, dangling and dripping a weird stripe of red onto the ground underneath. the dusty concrete ribboned, like someone took a paintbrush to it, and not a man.
a boy, really, caving in around lilith's outstretched hand.
other details throw themselves at her. a pony-tail lying sopping on the ground.
someone’s shoe, sitting perfectly upright like one of those stupid experimental art pieces.
Beatrice has put both of her damp palms on Lilith’s face, peering at her. unafraid, because she is a blasphemy all on her own. she is caked in everything, unflinching, and her hands are so tender. Lilith wants to vomit, but she only gasps. the sound of her is wet and loud in the dripping quiet. everything seems darker after all the light, the halo slipping through her skin. fingers through gossamer.
‘i didn’t mean it,’ she says, wetly. like it matters.
they were ambushed, overwhelmed, pushed to opposite sides of the warehouse. beatrice a blur she glimpsed through hands and teeth and the blank faces of the possessed. empty bodies rattling around her, closing in so that she had to use her sword like a lever, until even that was not enough.
but she was not afraid; she was not raised to fear, or to cry out even when one of the possessed reached up and stuck his fingers in her eye, yanking it half-out, so the optic nerve disconnected with a searing flicker.
she only gritted her teeth. it was, after all, imaginable pain, and she could carry it.
she was not afraid until her left eye twinged fiercely and showed the peripheral of her vision to her again and in it was beatrice, held up by her throat. legs kicking, carving lines of red into the arm that held her aloft, eyes seeking lilith where she stood framed in a halo of frothing bodies.
she did not mean it, but she did it.
and now she is clutching at Beatrice’s padded shoulder, tears leaking out of her as if her body does not know what else to do with them. she feels beatrice lean forward, - by some miracle towards lilith and not away - feels her chin settle on lilith's shoulder.
she does it gently, barely putting any pressure into her arms as they reach up, squeezing lilith’s biceps. beatrice turns her head, slow, and brushes her lips against the side of lilith’s neck, and it is all so careful, as though she really is afraid that she might break something. as though, somewhere in her mind, lilith is still something breakable.
‘i’m sorry,’ it comes out garbled, like she’s dumping each wet syllable at beatrice’s feet with the expectation that she will know what to do with them.
beatrice looks at her, and it’s difficult to see any expression on her washed-red face, but lilith thinks she finds some sadness there. a horrible hint of pity.
she nods, and that’s all. lilith stares as beatrice ducks her head, reaching to examine her body for injuries, as though it matters.
she lies there, pooled in cooling liquid, and thinks - as Beatrice probes the akimbo of her legs with her fingertips, trying to ascertain if she can stand, if they can run - that it should not happen like this.
but she can feel it happening, like this.
because the kiss before was not really a kiss; it was a plea, a fit of desperation. nothing you could treat as a foundation. it was just a needless resuscitation – the princess has to kiss the frog to make it human again, but she doesn’t have to be in love, right?
lilith has never read the fairy tales, only heard about them in passing from other girls, showing her pictures of the time they dressed up as Cinderella. beyond a few press photographs at competitions, lilith isn’t certain that her mother ever took a picture of her just for the sake of it, just for the safekeeping of it.
dark eyes flicker up, meeting hers, and beatrice’s breath catches inside her throat. she’s beautiful, even like this, even here where the fabric of the world has stretched thin.
looking over her shoulder (because it is unbearable to look into her eyes) lilith can almost see bright, reddish-gold spots of luminescence seeping through the air. dotted like constellations up in the exact spot she held the bodies of the wraiths before they tore themselves apart to reach her.
filaments of threaded light sit in the air and the halo beats it’s isotopic heartbeat in lilith’s back. she think that must be invisible too, but then she starts as bea’s hand moves suddenly to her chest. her armour is shredded in places, so the pads of bea’s fingers touch bare skin. healed smooth, but still slippery from the injuries, from the shredded tissue the halo decided not to reincorporate into her body.
how much of this is only light? lilith wonders, looking down the length of her body, splayed out with beatrice kneeling between her legs. her other hand rests atop lilith’s thigh, her thumb pressing down on the inside.
‘you’re glowing,’ she breathes, and lilith looks down at her hand, at the light cascading out between them. it’s nothing like sunlight, the buttery shine that used to burst out through shannon’s skin.
where the light touches, it reveals, and lilith can see quite plainly the bones inside of beatrice’s fingers. the bustle of carpals and metacarpals in her hand, flowing up towards her knuckles and dipping down into the architecture of her wrist.
the halo burns inside her, sending wicks of wicked heat down lilith’s arms, her legs, up into her mouth so she feels molten.
‘I’m glowing,’ she agrees. i wish it felt beautiful.
slowly, and not very softly, the light retreats from beatrice’s hand, making a penumbra of her insides so that lilith can almost see through them. the bones are quick to hide back in shadow but the veins pronounce out, licking up the wavelengths, going from red to blue as the skin reasserts itself and drinks up all the other colours.
then it winks out, and lilith feels a terrible weariness spread through her body, but it doesn’t feel especially important as she watches beatrice lift her hand away and stare at it, aghast.
it’s clean. unbloodied.
beatrice doesn’t say, ‘that’s impossible.’she’s not trite, and she’s seen too much to worry about a slight inconsistency in physics. her hand is perfectly steady as she examines it, curling her fingers in to peer underneath the nails. it’s all unblemished.
her hand settles slowly back down towards lilith’s leg, barely brushing the top of her thigh, and lilith wants to shout for her to stop, because with the barest contact the tips of her fingers are already stained, but then beatrice’s eyes are on her face again. searching in that beguiling way for what lilith is feeling.
maybe you can tell me, and then we can both know.
it’s not a feeling, precisely, that draws her forward, tipping towards beatrice like something that has been on the verge of toppling for a long time. beatrice watches her move, and lilith is struck by the echo of her voice at night, in the showers at cat’s cradle.
stories about Galileo, and how after they told him to recant he might – ‘apocryphally’, as beatrice amended in her whisper – have said eppur si muove.
and yet it moves.
so lilith does. her arms are too heavy, just then, to reach out and feel the tension grow in beatrice’s jaw as it happens. protracted and with a sense of inevitability.
she just falls into it, pressing her lips up into the conundrum of beatrice’s mouth, as she has wanted to for a very long time.
her lips are salty, soft, pliant as they part under the barest suggestion from lilith’s tongue. she tastes of peppermint, dust, something faintly herbal.
when the girls in school told lilith that people can taste of things besides spit and teeth and warmth, she didn’t believe them.
and then she kissed a girl after football training and she tasted like wet grass and the orange squash they made up in the big 1.5 litre bottles with Lucozade emblazoned on the side in white. they all had one with their names written messily in permanent marker on the side.
lilith came away from it stunned; not especially at the fact of kissing a girl, but at the taste of her. different from all the others. when she asked, later, the girl told lilith that she tasted warm. she tasted of butter on toast or a marshmallow straight off the fire.
at the time, of course, that didn’t feel like an omen.
at first it is all very tentative. beatrice opens her mouth, lets lilith’s tongue inside. the way you part your lips to receive the eucharist.
but then she grows bolder, as she always does. surging forward with the latent strength of an approaching wave, dreaming each time that it won’t break on the shore.
deepening the kiss. she makes a noise as lilith’s tongue runs over her bottom lip, replaced by teeth a moment later. there’s a cut inside of beatrice’s mouth - lilith knows because she can taste it, a pulse of coppery, metallic heat on her tongue as bea licks into her mouth. her hands tremble as they cup lilith’s jaw, hesitant, like a bird fluttering uncertainly over a branch that might not carry its weight.
the mechanism underscoring all breakages is the proliferation of cracks
bea’s voice in her head and bea’s tongue in her mouth. she tastes of quiet death and lilith moans as bea’s fingers settle against her jaw. she breathes into lilith’s mouth, and somewhere inside the halo brushes against her lungs. a phantom hand in her chest telling her she can survive on the carbon dioxide she’s been given. 
though that’s not all of it. somewhere in the vanishing depths of her mind lilith remembers beatrice, younger and brighter, telling her that no story is that simple. not even breathing. 
perhaps she would say something else about it now, but her mouth is occupied. her hands slip over the strange, scaly texture of lilith’s armour as she pulls closer, hungrier. 
lilith leans into it. doesn’t know what else to do, can’t imagine doing anything else. she thinks of what beatrice called her, all those months ago when she stood like a wound over shannon’s body, cradling her hand like it was anything but meat.
thief. her little face furious, voice barely pitched above a whisper but loud in the mausoleum. lilith stood at the foot of the staircase, pain encircling her shoulders, and laughed in the face of beatrice’s grief. 
then, too, she had no idea what else she might do.
beatrice pulls back, pupils blown, mouth smeared red, and she’s so good, these days, at biting back swear words. but in that moment she is a profanity.
beatrice has a knack for getting the blood out from under her fingernails, of stepping away clean from the slaughter, but lilith comes out of the shower with ribbons of it still behind her ear or on her scalp. when it’s hot inside their room at night it dribbles out of her hairline and bea thumbs it away, frowning. 
even now, with her face tilted up, smears running down the underside of her jaw, following the curve of her neck and the gentle bulge of her windpipe, the cricoid cartilage in little ridges. lilith cannot be convinced to think of her as stained – by any of it.
but there is no way to take the halo out and wash it in warm water. there are days when she washes her hands so many times that, were it not for the halo, they would crack and peel and scar along the knuckles.
beatrice leans into it this time. or, rather, she surges forward. she is strong - not so tall as lilith, but more muscular after months of the halo and its nausea and its appetite. 
beatrice is only a girl, really, but she is honed to such an edge that half the time lilith’s cuts herself on its sharpness. 
she has not felt clean in months, but she feels close to it when beatrice’s tongue licks into her mouth, fingertips on her jaw. fingers slip into her hair, slick and blood-greased, sending trails of it sliding down the curve of her jaw, dripping into the cup of bea’s palms. but there is no hesitation in the press of her lips, not the slightest flinch in her attention. 
the blood on her mouth is her own. mostly, maybe, & there is a part of her that wants to pull away. to say stop, stop. you are not invincible. you are not safe with me. but the blood is hers, and the taste of it is so familiar.
it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. should have been by the Seine, in Paris, with the taste of fresh croissant in both of their mouths, overwhelming everything. she should have taken it instead of waiting, always flinching away from those sudden, naked glances, the tentative brush of a hand against her forearm.
but she didn’t, and now beatrice is kissing her blood-soaked, slicked in arterial spray.
lilith’s eyes are heavy and she aches, but she whispers - or imagines that she whispers - I’m sorry, little soldier.
it should have been better than this, the first time.
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my-tummy-hurts · 2 months ago
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Oh yeah, I would never want Predators being the next/final stage of the Alien lifecycle in any kind of official media. Having the Aliens turn into Predators, truthfully, feels like it devalues both creatures. The Alien becomes just a transitional form for a completely different creature and the Predator just gets folded into the Alien lifecycle. Truthfully I was just watching the 2010 Predators movies for the first time in a decade and remembered that was a thing. I like the Aliens and Predator franchise separately but I feel like AVP as a concept never really did anything worthwhile with its premise except for some decent video games, the best of which isn't even available anymore.
Dan O'Bannon original conceit that the Aliens were capable of sentience always fascinated me though. The concept of a sentient race that reproduces by violently chewing its way out of a living being kind of tickles my world building noggin. In addition to other noggins.
I've found that I love writing Fuqua. I love that her entire function in the story is basically a one hundred page ironic joke about WeYu employees that kicks off Reese's suicide. I love how simultaneously sardonic and completely naive she is when we first meet her. ("Weyland Yutani would never put innocent lives at risk." She says completely earnestnessly minutes after teasing Brackett about being scared of "a snake") I love her sassing Reese and Mori as she's in the midst of dying giving birth to an Alien. I'm also kind of loving writing her post birth scene, especially now that I've taken it out of the cozyburster realm and she has no reason to expect she would survive.
Anyway, I'm thinking of getting a full account here or on Ao3 and just...doing a full multi chapter au fic from her point of view even though I have never finished a multi chapter story in my life.
Yeah I'm really glad that AVP has been established as its own separate continuity, the lore of them interacting is interesting but it kind of waters down both franchises if they're mutually dependent on each other existing. Romulus and Prey have really shown that they both shine when they're freed of that context, just allowed to play to their own strengths. I personally love AVP, I've been actually developing my own script for a "better version" of AVPR (actually just using the basic premise of a xeno infestation in a small town -- here a company town on a colony world, think Freya's Prospect in AVP 2010 -- with a predator coming to clean up the mess).
Yeah O'Bannon's original idea that the violent nature of the xenomorph was just a defense mechanism in its early life and it would mature to become sapient later is quite interesting; they actually used a similar concept for Greys in X-Files!
Boy howdy friend if you made an account I would absolutely read the hell out of your stuff, you're such a good writer ;-;
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asa-do-your-thing · 6 months ago
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Dreams - 3 - Lucie
18+ MINORS DNI Jon Snow x F!OC / Robb Stark x F!OC Word Count: 3.3k Masterlist with Fic Warnings - Contains Death, SA and Abuse.  Dividers by @cafekitsune
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The ride had tangled her hair. Sitting in her tub, she energetically brushed her hair out, trying to get the soap into it. She had to be pretty for tonight’s feast - she had killed the main dish, she would be forced to talk to the Starks, accepting their praise.
Lord and Lady Stark didn’t bother her too much, she thought to herself as she submerged herself once more. They were a great Lord and his Lady - demure curtsies, bows, and compliments, that much she could do, that is exactly what mother had taught her before her… death. She re-emerged again out of the water, trying to comb her hair out once more.
Her maid stood helplessly next to her, holding up a little flask of fragrant oil. “Milady, your hair is perfectly clean, you shall look lovely. Shall I dry it and oil it for you?”
No, I do not look lovely. I must look like a mess, unacceptable… her mind told her. Lucie sighed and gave the girl a polite smile, her cheeks hurting from the false smile. “Yes, please.” She lifted her long hair, holding it up with one hand and roughly squeezing the water out with the other, before letting it hang out of the back of the tub for the maid to work on.
Trying to catch her train of thoughts again, she crossed her arms over her bare chest, trying to take in the heat of the water against the cold that seemed to permeate everything in this Castle. Ah, yes, being forced to talk to people, she remembered and shivered, looking out of the window at the flaming red foliage of the Weirwood tree, which was half-hidden in the darkness and the fog that pulled up.
She didn’t mind Rickon, Bran and Arya at all, though they rarely spoke to her at dinner, as they sat further away, still being children. They were a cute bunch - playing with them was a delight, rescuing Lucie away from the repetitive days of waking up, embroidering and watching over the Stark girls, eating lunch, being entertained to a certain degree by Jon, Theon or Robb, eating dinner (though it mostly had been feasts for Lord Stark was the greatest Lord in the north and there had always been an occasion to be celebrated), then going to the library for a bit with Jon and sleeping.
The maid gently massaged her scalp, filling the room with the wonderful scent of peonies. Yes, peonies, just like her mother had worn. She had been delighted when she found out that the Starks had planted Peonies for her in their glass gardens. Delight. She had only ever truly been delighted when Jon was around, when he gave her attention, when he cared about her. But, to her chagrin, Lady Catelyn had him moved to a lower table to make space for her at the main, head table. She shivered again. Sitting between Robb and Theon, that was a personal hell for her.
“Are you cold Milady? Are you well?,” the maid asked, seeing Lucie’s goosebumps.
Lucie shook her head gently and gave her a smile, this time a bit more genuine. “No, not at all, it feels good when you do my hair, that is all.”
With that, Lucie returned to her contemplation. Theon had been a sleaze from the very start. Bragging about being a Greyjoy, about being an Iron Man, about his prowess and whatnot. He was like an annoying fly, though it was easy to swat him away, especially since she had hit him after he had tried kissing her. She remembers how his nose had bled and the way he had winced - she was sure that he wouldn’t dare touch her again, lest she fulfilled her threat of telling Lady Catelyn that he had tried to shame her.
But Robb… something about him made her stomach twist, though most definitely not in the way it twisted when she was with Jon or the way it lurched when she was with Theon. He made her uneasy, showering her with presents and affection, when after all he had no clue who she was or if she even liked him. Though she had to stop and reflect - she didn't know him either.
Her thoughts were cut off by the maid standing up and curtsying. “Your hair is finished, my Lady. Shall I dress you now?”
Lucie blinked a few times and nodded, standing up and letting the water flow down her body. “Please do, thank you.”
The maid curtsied and brought forth a new shift and a luscious dark red dress, which was embroidered with pearls. Gently laying forth her stockings, she frowned as she looked for her garter-ribbons. “My lady, where is your second red ribbon?”
Lucie frowned and cocked her head to the side, stepping out of the tub and drying off. “I wouldn’t know, maybe I have lost it.”
Nodding, the maid walked back to her cloth-chest and pulled out two green ribbons. “Should green please my lady as well?”
Blushing, Lucie nodded. “No one is going to see them anyways.”
The maid, a girl a few years older than her, wiggled her brows. “Hm, someone will, sooner than later, my Lady.”
“Whatever do you mean?,” Lucie asked, afraid of what she had meant.
“That you have flowered long ago and almost everyone knows?,” the maid said nonchalantly, gently slipping the shift over Lucie's shoulders.
She gasped and gave the maid a confused look. “How… what do you mean?”
The maid smiled and shrugged. “I kept finding burnt pieces of rags in the fireplace, and the way you refused to bathe for some weeks. It made perfect sense so I… decided to tell Lady Stark, who has graciously allowed you to continue for a bit, probably so you may mourn your family’s passing properly. You cannot continue for much longer, though, milady, you do look like a woman already, with the hair under your arms and between your legs, not to mention your growing chest. Lady Stark’s been pestering me endlessly.”
Lucie bit her lip and slipped into her outer gown. “I do not know why her Ladyship has been so graceful, but then again, I must thank her for giving me this… period of grace and not punishing me for hiding it. Though… I am not sure if I am ready to wed lord Robb.”
The maid gave her a polite smile. “He is a kind man and not too bad looking. There are certainly worse matches.”
Huffing, Lucie slipped in her big, golden earrings and gave the maid a calculating look. “Maybe you are right. I'll reward your discretion by making you my ladies maid, is that all right? I… have certain plans.”
Falling into a deep curtsy, the maid smiled. “Thank you, thank you, milady. Does that mean… you shall accept my lord's proposal?”
“Oh, he hasn't proposed yet,” Lucie said with a calculating expression, brushing her eyebrows into shape, “that is why I shall do it in his stead.”
The maid raised her eyebrows and gulped, as if afraid of that proposition. “If… Uh… Whatever my lady wishes to do.”
Lucie nodded with a small smile and dismissed her, throwing her thick cape over her shoulders and walked out of her lodgings into the courtyard. Nestled within the heart of the Winterfell, the courtyard lay blanketed by winter’s embrace. The flagstones, once warmed by the sun’s caress, now bore the cold kiss of snow.
Gothic spires reached towards the heavy grey skies like the fingers of the old kings of the north, as icy winds howled through the arches and crevices of the ancient stone, whispering the secrets of a thousand years. Winter had sequestered all warmth from the castle grounds, but none could deny the beauty it brought.
Lucie’s breath crystalized before her as she stood alone amidst the wintry oasis, her figure a ghostly apparition against the snowy canvas. Swirls of white danced around her, a tumultuous waltz courtesy of the wind. She was clad in a mantle of black fur, the heavy garment a necessary shield against the biting chill. Her deep brown hair, a stark contrast to the pallor of the snow, escaped in unruly strands from beneath her hood and out of her braids, rebellious against attempts to tame them.
Her countenance, usually so fair and composed, was etched with the quiet turmoil brewing within her mind. Lucie's thoughts swirled much like the snowflakes that surrounded her, each one a silent question about her impending betrothal. Dark black eyes, reflecting the winter sky, gazed unseeingly at the frosted battlements. She felt small, cornered by fate and the high walls which, today, seemed not protective, but prison-like.
To marry Robb meant security and alliance. For her, it spelled prosperity and continuation. She knew the importance of such ties, woven into the fabric of her duty as Lady Templeton. But as the howling wind careened past her, it carried whispers not just of snow, but of freedom—of wild woods and adventures untold, of destinies not defined by vows or decrees. Where once her heart had fluttered with the prospect of a ball or tournament, it now felt shackled to the ground, heavy with the weight of responsibility.
Yet, Lucie understood the role she had to play, and the expectations that came with her birthright. She would stand by Robb’s side, a figure of grace and strength, as much a part of the castle as the stones that had weathered centuries. Her only ray of light was… Jon. With a sigh that turned to ice, she turned away from the courtyard, leaving only the faintest imprint in the snow—a silent testimony to her presence and her thoughts upon the cold, indifferent ground.
As soon as she stepped into the great Hall, the familiar warmth and smells rushed over her. The herald quickly stood up and cleared his throat. “Her Ladyship Lucie Templeton of Ninestars.” Capturing Lord and Lady Stark’s gazes, she dipped into a quick curtsy and walked over to the main table, giving Jon a gentle smile as she sat down.
Robb gave her a smile and pointed to the end of the table. “Your deer was so big, they still have to turn it over the spit. Might I offer you some steak and kidney pie, Lady Lucie?,” he asked, his voice strangely husky. He looked ruggedly handsome, that much Lucie had to admit.
“That is most kind of you, my lord,” she muttered and glanced down at Jon, who gave her a soft nod. She returned his nod, making her earrings jangle. “I trust you had a good afternoon, my lord,” she said to Robb, trying her hardest to smile.
Robb poured her some wine and nodded gently, his eyes sparkling. “It was exceptionally good, my Lady, especially knowing that we would be spending time with each other so soon again. Might I tell you that you look exceptionally good tonight?”
She quickly hid behind her chalice, taking a few quick gulps, not knowing what to reply to him. No, she told herself, do not give in to him. Do not let him think you can be toyed with. “Thank you, Lord Robb. I must also thank you for your heirloom. I… I must apologise for not telling you earlier but… I look forward to our future betrothal.”
His eyebrows shot up and he frantically looked towards his parents, then to Jon but everyone returned his confused look. Lucie blushed awkwardly. That was not so bad, she thought calmly to herself, though almost shrieked as Robb took her cold hands and kissed them, before standing up with a huge grin. Oh no, please, do not make a toast, for the love of all of the gods, please, her mind screamed as she tried her hardest to catch Jon’s gaze, but to her terror he looked down onto his plate, pointedly looking away.
“I am honoured to announce my betrothal to Lady Lucie Templeton! Let us drink to her health!,” he roared, pride evident on his face.
Lucie felt faint. The minor lords and ladies, along with the servants roared and cheered, downing their cups. She gave Robb a small faint look and quickly sat back down again. What just happened? Was he out of his mind? Did he misunderstand her? She said future betrothal, she was so sure that she said future betrothal!
Her heart pounded in her chest, the cheers of the crowd a deafening roar in her ears. She remembered the feeling of the snowflakes swirling around her, and how it had made her feel so small and insignificant. Now, she realised that she had never felt so small as she did in that moment.
Robb’s hand had moved to her back, and she could feel the heat of his touch through the fur of her mantle. She took slow, deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. It was too late to take back her words, and she knew that she would have to live with the consequences of her choice.
As the cheering died down, she looked up to see Jon staring at her with an expression of hurt and betrayal. She felt a pang of guilt in her chest, but knew that she could not change what had been done. She lifted her chin and met his gaze steadily, silently pleading with him to understand.
The feast continued on around her, but Lucie felt as though she were in a dream. She moved through the motions mechanically, barely aware of the food on her plate or the conversation around her. All she could think of was the weight of Robb’s hand on her back, and the knowledge that she had tied herself to him for life. I will be Lady Lucie Stark, wife of the future Lord Stark, mother of his children, what have I done.
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2 - Robb <= Previous Chapter ¦ Next Chapter => 4 - Robb
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rosewolfs-world · 2 years ago
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Colourful
Toshinori x Fem! OC
Warnings: Hallmark cheesiness and tooth-rotting fluff
(GIF credit: devilmanlady)
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Part One - Meet Cute...?
☀️ Toshinori is now a rookie hero in California--it’s been three months since he graduated from Yuuei Academy.
💡Hinata is now a Pre-Med student studying in Southern California--she just returned from visiting family in Japan. 
☀️ He had arranged to meet with his new friend (and business partner) at a cafe near the local university. He wasn’t *quite* sure he had the right place, but it wouldn’t hurt to grab a tea and ask around.
💡Jet lag was a Bitch, even 24 hours after the fact. The only thing that could make it worse was back-to-back lab classes on a Monday. At this point, coffee was her only hope of staying alive. 
☀️ It was his fault. He’d been so focused on trying to find David among the flurry of patrons he didn’t realise there was one directly in his path.
💡 It was her fault; there was no denying it. If she hadn’t been so busy with the smell of formaldehyde burning her brain cells, she would have thought to sidestep the brick shithouse blocking her path.  
☀️ 💡 In any case, two worlds collide with the scalding hiss of hot coffee and muffled curses.
💡 “Oh, shit! Sumi--er, sorry about that. God! Here, let me--”
☀️“Oh! Sumimasen deshi--I-I mean, I’m so sorry! Allow me to--”
💡Hinata froze mid-sentence. “Hold up. You--do you speak Japanese?”
☀️ Toshinori paused at the inquiry, unsure whether to feel acknowledged or embarrassed. “Hai?” 
💡A sudden smile bloomed across her warm golden features. “Subarashi! And here I thought I’d only ever heard my home language...well, at home.”
☀️ The young hero soon found himself smiling as well. “Always happy to be of help!” he saluted with two fingers to his temple. 
💡Hinata rolled her eyes and chuckled. “You’re a hero, aren’t you?” 
☀️Toshinori blinked in surprise. “Was it that obvious?”
💡“Not terribly,” Hinata shrugged, reaching for the nearest napkin dispenser. “I grew up in a family of heroes, so I’ve got a knack for picking them out of a crowd.” With a fistful of napkins in each hand, she started to mop up the mess they’d made.
☀️Noticing the action, Toshinori immediately kicked himself into helping. “Is that so?” He queried. “Are you looking to be a hero as well?”
💡Hinata shook her head. “Nah, my quirk isn’t suited for combat. Too stressful. I’d much rather be a healer instead.”
☀️“Like a nurse?” Toshinori asked with a quivering brow.
💡“Doctor, actually.”
☀️“Oh, well, that’s wonderful!” Toshinori hardly batted an eye at her correction. The young woman herself seemed surprised by his behaviour. Her amber eyes blinked at him in a way that somehow reminded him of an owl. “Though, if you were looking for a low-stress job—”
💡Hinata burst into laughter before he could finish the sentence. She honestly surprised herself with how quickly her mood had turned. “Yea, pretty ironic, huh?”
☀️ “Just a tad,” Toshinori chuckled. Having cleaned up their mess to the best of their ability, the young man had a moment to glance over their soiled clothes. His smile soured a little. “I am sorry for bumping into you. I don’t know if—”
💡Hinata followed his gaze to the abstract splash of sepia now decorating her blouse. She couldn’t help heaving a sigh. “It’s alright, nothing my peers haven’t seen before. All of us are usually a mess this early in the semester. Especially on Mondays.”
☀️ “You’re a student?”
💡 “Pre-med, year two—I’m training to be a Doctor, didn’t ya hear?” She teased with a smile.
☀️ Toshinori felt the bridge of his nose burn. He rubbed at his neck a bit sheepishly. “Right, sorry, I’m...not very familiar with the education system here.”
💡 “That’s alright, Hero. If you’re here from Japan, you must be fresh out of a hero academy. Which one are you from, Mister…?”
☀️ “Er, Yagi, Toshinori. I went to Yuuei.”
💡Hinata’s eyes widened. “No way,” when Toshinori tilted his head at her, she was quick to elaborate. “Sorry, it’s not that I don’t believe you!” She waved her hands in front in hasty reassurance. “I’m just surprised. Many of my family went to Yuuei, and it’s not too far from my hometown.”
☀️ “Mustafa?”
💡 “Not quite, just one of the tiny towns outside the city.”
☀️ “Ah, I see. That is quite the coincidence.” Toshinori smiled, slightly intrigued. Now it was the young woman’s turn to rub her neck in embarrassment. 
💡 “Anyways…” Hinata’s eyes briefly trailed down the long stain on his—Yagi-san’s—white T-shirt. Hot damn, this bloke is huge...She shook her head a little. “I’m...sorry about your shirt and the coffee. Let me pay you back. I can buy you another one?”
☀️ The burning of Toshinori’s nose spread like a spark to a flame. “Oh! No, no, it’s alright, Miss...uh….”
💡 “Shimura, Shimura Hinata.—And please, I insist, I feel like an absolute—”
☀️The Young woman—Shimura-san—kept talking. Unbeknownst to her, Toshinori’s brain stalled, short-circuited, and screeched to a motha-fuckin’ halt. Shimura...it can’t be...His mind restarted as quickly as it stopped, cycling through so many possibilities that he didn’t even know where to begin. His eye caught the old clock hanging on the opposite wall. “Er, I suppose I have some time….”
💡 “Subarashi!” Shimura-san chirped with an earnest grin. “So? How do you like your coffee?”
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mandalhoerian · 1 year ago
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ayup it’s the person that sent those vera things like a week ago ?? yk the one that made a fool of themself by rambling about ur oc ! anyways i reread it bc ofc i did and. idk. it’s such an amazing fic like genuinely and i felt a need to express it. like outside of how well-thought vera is and how interesting her dynamics with marvin + leon are (and claire ofc) and just. the pacing and story progression. it’s all so well done. and i’m sure someone has told u this in ur ao3 comments but the way ur reinterpreting canon a lil and having vera shake things up is so fun and genuinely interesting which is why i went back and reread it all. it feels like there’s a lot i kinda missed the first time round with the nuances of vera’s character which was. very fun to go back around and see again. hope ur doing well <3
HI OMG WELCOME BACK IM SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU
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(you aren't a fool it's my inspiration and motivation juice YOU TAKE THAT BACK🔪)
first of all you are A CHAD. The fic is 100K words oh god I can't imagine -- im happy it was more enjoyable the second time around at least 😭😭😭😭 It's amazing to hear that despite the fat word count, you think the pacing and progression is going well!
Unrelated tidbit but I really didn't know how to introduce Vera before starting the fic and was debating on starting from pre-RE2R in the summer of 1998, spend five chapters and so with Vera assisting Jill in her investigation and unravel things from there. But at the end I was like "literally nobody would read that" and thought what best technique is there by starting right in the middle of action and chaos? And the rest I winged it.
That had to mean I had to go through EVERYTHING about her life and how she got to that point by peppering the events throughout the plot as Leon and her story also progressed alongside it, and I couldn't gloss over anything, so it just expanded and expanded and expanded and I'm sure got boring as hell at places since she hides a bunch of shit from the others and good god do they have to be integrated to the plot of re2r AND UGHHHHHHHH. Thank you for telling me I havent messed up LMAOOOOOOO
About the canon. I have a bone to pick with some of the game and the story, I don't like how they went about a couple of things. This is me trying to lay the groundwork to fix them and everything by tweaking .
For example Leon pulling the "i have to talk to the chief first" bs and saying "Idk what happened it happened to fast" to ada like he was trying to make excuses like a child to his parent really irked me, especially in the original re2 he bent over backwards to get ben out of the cell so he could come along with them. (dont talk to me about how a law-abiding rookie he's supposed to be. that could have been done better. leon simply isn't a person to leave someone like that, and he was hearing about chef irons the writing on that could have been better) And the way Claire and Leon barely interacted when they are the core of re2 together was just not it. The lack of Sherry and Leon together was also weird when Sherry is a big part of why he was taken by the government and stayed, and how Sherry blatantly says he saved her in RE6. (I know they just completely wiped the slate clean off Sherry and Leon with RE4R backstory by just saying Leon just didnt have a choice but like. yeah) and also Ada. God Ada "(to the woman she wants to discreetly capture. since she's A SPY) We're here for the g-virus and i will now proceed to jump in front of the bullets" & "Where's Leon when I need him (has treated him as a nuisance the whole way)" Wong. Im sure there are a lot more things but i cant think of them rn but I am annoyed with Things
SORRY I JUST WENT OFF ON A TANGENT. But like. Having Vera involved and having her existence be a reason on changing things around is so much fun. I could just expand on child experimentation and the truth of the orphanage through her, it was always something wildly bothering me that they kept that plot so subtle in Claire's story. Birkins (or maybe just William. we'll never know) were using children in G-virus experiments WHY DIDNT THEY TALK ABOUT THAT MORE DUDE? That's why canon divergence makes things so much more interesting because it's not just transcribing the game and inserting an OC along the way, it's changing things and making new things up, keeping things fresh
GOD I TALKED SO MUCH SORRY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!!!!!!
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dcvinefcmme · 2 months ago
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𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 intended being in front of him in this very moment, it had certainly been part of the plan. soft spot for a certain ghost rider aside -- the were in two different universes. thus, leaving her no choice but to swallow that down. what was it they said all those lifetimes ago -- an eye for an eye? while she was well aware that people spend years growing, improving their intellect and their candor, no one could ever truly escape certain elements of their past. such as one's unbridled anger. the murderer had to be in there. all she had to do was coax it out. give the serpents a modern reason to strike. she truly had stumbled onto him on accident, but who was she if not a woman of convenience and opprotunity? part of her is impressed that he stands strong after her first shot, most men, especially bikers don't take too kindly to having their already fragile masculinity attacked. ironic, considering that was likely how all of this had started in the first place.
" if you were a ghost, then we wouldn't have this problem. because last time i checked, most ghosts are neither seen nor heard. mice, on the other hand? they run for their short little lives. " she smirks, arms crossed over her chest as her side rests against the street lamp illuminating the scene. " how sweet, you think i'd possibly let you get off that easy? childs play. you would know, after all." the laugh that follows is one that feels borderline cathartic. her father's soldiers may have fallen into a rather predictable routine, but she had a different way of dealing with the pests that infiltrated their ranks. a new age of the serpents had dawned. " i don't know which of my father's men you've delt with.. but i have a different way of doing things. and i always clean up my messes myself. like a fucking lady. " she steps a bit closer -- just enough for him to notice, but not enough for him to take notice. just enough for him to shift. maybe it was she who should have been called a ghost, the way she finds thrill in hunting the object of her distaste. he would never know when she decided his last moment would be. " i'm it for the long game. "
Jason knew it was only a matter of time before the snakes began to circle, coiling round and round until they were close enough to sink toothy fangs into flesh.  And yet, when the moment finally arrived and a snarky drawl greeted Jason from beyond the shadows, the enforcer just stood there, back against the side of the garage — solid and unwavering — as her venom spewed from her lips. He didn't even falter, he simply indulged in another swig, drinking in her threats as did the booze. For the best way to neutralize a snake bite was whiskey, and Jason had a shit ton of that.
"And what's a snake do to a ghost?" He countered as he finally shifted his gait, taking time to breathe in the drag from his cigarette. "We all know you didn't just come here to call me names," He straightened himself up as he flicked the cigarette to the ground to free up that hand the snake was referring to. "How you gunna do it? Bullet between the eyes." He suggested, and brought two fingers to his forehead, tapping twice right in the center, other fingers still wrapped around the neck of the Jack. The Snakes loved their guns. "Got a couple of goons to do it for ya?" A scowl tightened against his features, his challenge glowering deep within that unrelenting stare. "C'mon get on with it."
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traveler-at-heart · 3 years ago
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Happy Birthday, Nat
Summary: It’s Natasha’s birthday and you want to make her feel special.
Natasha Romanoff x FemReader
A/N: Pure fluff. Wrote this one pretty quickly so if there are any mistakes, forgive me. And enjoy :) 
It was a mess again, but you planned on cleaning it up, so who cared?
You definitely deserved pancakes, bacon and eggs after injuring your leg on the last mission and getting a week off. Were you going crazy without missions? A little bit.
Humming while you finished with the pancakes, you heard Steve and Tony arguing.
“She doesn’t want to do anything and we should respect that, Tony”
“But it’s her birthday”
That got your interest. This could only be about the only person whose birthday was a mystery.
“Stay out of her way for tomorrow, I’m sure she’ll appreciate it more than any party”
Tony rolled his eyes and approached you, stealing some of your bacon.
“Hands off, Iron Man. There are extra pancakes if you’re hungry”
“Have I ever told you you’re my favorite?”
“No, but if I really am you could help me clean the kitchen after you eat”
“I’m busy with meetings and Avengers stuff” he excused himself, mouth full of pancakes.
You glared at him, but Natasha walked in and you suddenly forgot how to breathe. Were you even supposed to know tomorrow was her birthday? Should you say something?
Would she kill you if you did?
“How’s the leg?” she asked, pouring herself the last cup of coffee.
“I… uh. Fine. I should be getting back to work next week” you stuttered. It was always like this when she spoke to you. You were the newest addition to the team and Natasha, on top of being brilliant, the best fighter and resourceful, was absolutely stunning.
“Good to know” she said with a smile. You hated yourself for blushing like an idiot.
Tony had the decency to wait until she was gone to mock you.
“Puppy love” he snickered and you stole the last bit of his pancake. “Hey!”
“Serves you right”
*
Birthdays were your favorite days. Especially yours, obviously. Your family had always made it feel magical and special. Thinking that Natasha didn’t have that wasn’t sitting right with you.
At four in the morning, you decided you’d had enough of staring at the ceiling and got up to do something else.
Baking always helped. If it happened to be Natasha’s favorite red velvet cupcakes, it was just a coincidence. And if you gave them to her first thing in the morning without any reason, who cared?
A couple of hours later, you were standing outside her room, heart beating incredibly fast.
“Nat?” you knocked a couple of times, hoping she’d hurry up before you fainted.
“Hey” Steve said behind you and you squealed.
“Jesus, Cap!” you turned to glare at him and he tried to stiffle a laugh.
“She left for a mission early today”
“Oh” you said, not even trying to hide your disappointment. “Well, I just wanted to give her some cupcakes. It’s silly”
“It’s sweet. I’m sure she’ll really appreciate it. Though I don’t know if she’ll be back today” he smiled and kept walking down the hall.
“Well, thanks, Cap. By the way, I made some extra” he stopped in his tracks and you smiled. “And some chocolate cookies that you really like”
“Alright, I’m in” he turned and walked back to you, offering his arm. “Lead the way”
*
You weren’t expecting her to be back today. Which is why you were surprised when you walked out of your room and saw Natasha in the hall.
“Hey” you said louder than you intended. She turned around and smiled. “How did the mission go? I mean, are you ok?”
“It went well. I’m too tired to get something to eat. I’ll probably just take a shower, do the debriefing with Maria and then go to sleep”
“I baked cupcakes” you blurted out like an idiot. “I mean, for you. If you want? It’s your favorite”
“Really?” The redhead smiled and you had to keep yourself from sighing lovingly at how perfect she was.
“Yeah. Uh, why don’t you take a shower and meet me at the kitchen? I’ll have something ready”
“Alright. I still have to do the debriefieng” she scrunched up her nose in thought.
She’s so cute. Shut up. Pay attention. Seriously, stop.
“It will take 20 minutes tops. Is that cool?”
You nodded and waited until she went inside to fully panic and sprint to the kitchen. Steak and rosemary roasted potatoes were the quickest thing to pull off. Lucky for you, you had gone to the store that same day. Even luckier you, Sam had learned the lesson last time and didn’t eat any of your food.
Completely focused on getting everything ready, you never heard Natasha come up behind you.
“Smells delicious”
“Oh God!” you jumped again. “Why are you all so quiet?”
“Sorry” she smirked and you both knew she actually wasn’t. Natasha opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses.
“Thank you” you said, picking up two plates and serving the food.
“Thank you” you didn’t realise you were holding your breath in anticipation until she took a bite. “Y/N, this is amazing”
“Yeah?” you reached for your glass to hide your blush, but quickly regretted it. Natasha actually moaned as she took another bite and you almost choked on your wine.
“Easy there” she said with another smirk, that you decided to ignore.
Comfortable silence settled as you ate.
“I was thinking about one of my favorite movies today” she said after a while.
“Oh?” you encouraged her to continue.
“Moonraker. Have you ever seen it?”
“Definitely… not. I’m sorry. Is it any good? Should I?”
“We could watch it if you want to… after dinner?” it was the first time you’d ever seen Natasha like this, tentative and unsure. It melted your heart.
“I’d love to”
“Just a warning, I tend to repeat some of the lines so I hope you’re not annoyed by it”
“No, I think it’s cute” you said and she stared with a smile. “I mean, uh… let me clean here while you get the movie ready”
The wine was definitely not helping with your constant screw ups. You kept yourself busy with the dishes and the stove until Natasha showed up, letting you know it was all set.
To your surprise, she sat right next to you, pulling up a blanket to cover your legs. She was also right, the movie was great.
“So, who told you it was my birthday?” she said out of nowhere.
“Uh… no one. It’s your birthday? Happy…”
She leveled you with a glare, pausing the movie and you sighed.
“I overheard Steve and Tony arguing about throwing you a party or not. Honestly, I just wanted to give you the cupcakes because birthdays are supposed to be a special day and you are special as well”
“You already made it special, Y/N”
“Yeah?”
“I actually… The mission today was easy. And I was planning on asking you to come with me, just to spend time with you. But then you got hurt and thought… I didn’t want to risk it”
“I would have loved to spend the day with you, Nat. Can I make it up to you with a cupcake?”
“Fine”
You squealed and ran to the kitchen, stopping at the door.
“What about a tiny, tiny candle?”
“One candle. That’s it”
“And I could sing happy birthday?”
“No”
“Ugh, fine” you rolled your eyes. “Close your eyes”, you warned the other woman as you came back.
“Done” she agreed and you went to sit next to her.
“Make a wish” Natasha frowned and you reached out to grab her hand. “Please?”
She smiled and nodded. After a few seconds, she blew out the candle and opened her eyes.
“Thank you” she whispered, taking a bite out of the cupcake. You smiled and went back to the movie. A few minutes later, Natasha was leaning against you, cuddling in the sofa.
“What did you wish for?” you whispered.
“If I tell you it won’t happen” Natasha said in a very serious tone, turning her head to look into your eyes. You didn’t miss the way she glanced back at your lips and you smiled, reaching out to clean the corner of her mouth gently.
“You have frosting” you explained and she chuckled. It was your turn to look at her full lips. Leaning forward at the same time, your lips met in a tender and slow kiss.
“I had no idea birthday wishes could be granted so soon” she said, resting her forehead against yours. You pecked her lips one more time and smiled.
“Happy birthday, Natasha”
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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years ago
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So I was wondering if I could request something like Levi x reader where they get into an argument right before a expedition. The reader gets hurt on that expedition and Levi feels guilty. Kinda thinking angst and a bit of fluff at the end c:
I loved writing this sm! thanks for sending it in anon!
Summary: You grapple with Levi before a stressful mission.
Word Count: 2.3K
__
"Behave yourselves and enjoy this 'cause it cost the corps two months worth of our budget!" The chef announced as plates of meat were uncovered in front of the soldiers. Your mouth watered as you watched Hange slice the thick slabs of meat on the platter.
"Worth every penny." She hummed as she slapped a piece onto her plate. Levi rolled his eyes and looked up at Erwin, who was sat across from him. You elbowed him and shot him a dazzling grin.
"Lighten up cap, it's not often that we get to enjoy this stuff."
"It'll likely be the last for most." Levi grunted and your grin fell from your lips.
"So macabre." Hange snickered as she gnawed on a piece of meat.
"It's the truth." Levi's cold eyes were locked on Erwin who nodded in agreement.
"Well I plan on savoring it." You quipped, popping a piece into your mouth and chewing it dramatically. Levi scoffed and crossed his arms, ignoring his full plate.
"-Sasha! That's my hand!" Jean cried out, you had to cover your mouth in a futile attempt at hiding your amusement. Sasha had her teeth sank into his hand as Connie desperately tried to pry her from Jean.
"Sasha! Don't make me knock you out!" Connie pleaded as he caught her in a choke hold.
"Damn kids." Levi growled, as he glared at the teens from across the room.
"They're having fun! You should try it sometime." Hange kicked Levi under the table and you chuckled around another mouthful of food.
"I'm good." Levi's lip curled in disgust as Sasha was wrestled to the ground, the two boys finally subduing her.
"They're young, let them figure it out themselves." You assured him, gently resting a hand on his elbow. His eyes softened for a fraction of a second at this. Your touch was fleeting before your hand fell onto the bench between the two of you. He sighed loudly, finally grabbing his fork and picking at his potatoes.
The atmosphere was warm and made you feel so...whole. Even if you knew that Levi was right, tonight was likely the last time you and your comrades would dine together. But even if that was the case, you would be grateful for this happy memory. The peace was short lived however. Jean and Eren broke out into a fist fight, a rather pitiful one at that.
Within a few short minutes, the two were a sweaty mess, both huffing and staggering as they held their fists up. Levi got to his feet and stalked towards them, a deep scowl etched on his face.
With only two blows, the pair was on the floor, clutching their stomachs as Levi towered over them.
"Go to bed." He ordered. Jean vomited and Levi's lip curled in disgust.
"And clean that shit up." He added curtly as the dining hall murmured, recovering from the excitement. Sasha whimpered from her post as she struggled against her binds, feet kicking loudly against the wooden floors. As the soldiers filed out of the room, you made your way to her to free her. She sighed in relief as the gag was pulled off her mouth and the ropes slashed.
"Thanks miss." She gushed as she rolled her tense wrists.
"Don't mention it." You smiled as you reached into your pocket and passed her a loaf of bread.
"Did I mention how much I love you?" She grinned as she accepted the food and dove in for a hug.
"Actually, I don't think that you have." You giggled as she began eating the bread behind your shoulder as she hugged you.
"mf, well I sure do!" She exclaimed around a full mouth.
"You'd better go catch up with the others." You suggested with a firm pat on her back. She stood and jogged out of the dining hall, half eaten loaf in hand.
"You're too soft with them." Levi scolded from the doorway. You waved him off as you joined him, walking side by side out of the large room.
"They need it." You assured him, gently brushing your shoulder against his.
"The last thing they need is to be coddled." Levi argued.
"Levi, I think that sometimes you forget that they're fifteen." You paused outside of his office, leaning against the threshold as he unlocked the door.
"I haven't forgotten." He mumbled as he pushed the door open.
"Okay." You rolled your eyes, brushing off his especially sour mood.
"Don't you have formation plans to look over?" He asked as you followed him into his office.
"I thought we could go over them together." You shrugged, dropping down onto his couch.
"I'm not looking at them now."
"Then why should I be? Do you think I can't comprehend a simply formation we've used for years?" You were half teasing, but there was only so much crap you could take from him.
"Sometimes it seems that way." He agreed, falling into his desk chair. Your eyes narrowed and the food that had felt so good in your stomach moments before seemed too heavy.
"Why are you extra shitty tonight?" You asked even though you knew the answer. He always got moody the days leading up to missions.
"I think you know why." He looked up from his papers to shoot you a pointed glare.
"You need a nap." You attempted to rein in the easy banter, but Levi was persistent.
"I need you to get the fuck out of my office." His words stung, and you barely caught the hurt expression before it crossed your face.
"I'll see you in the morning." You said as you stalked across the small room and out of the door, closing it softly behind you. Levi groaned once he was sure you wouldn't hear him, his head hit his desk hard as he tried to fight off the migraine that had been creeping up on him since dinner.
__
As promised, the next morning he saw you. Or rather, he caught glimpses of you as you readied your horse and helped the younger soldiers make last minute preparations. The day ahead was going to be long and taxing. Mostly comprised of traveling out of the safety of the walls. Erwin had allowed for just enough time for the scouts to travel, timing it just so their departure from the gates would be well after sunset.
His morning was shittier than usual, Hange had been annoying, and Erwin had been stubborn as ever, continuing to dismiss his lack of an arm and insisting on joining the corps on the mission. So when you didn't brush up against him and crack one of your shit jokes during the long ride, he knew that he had royally fucked things up.
He still hadn't spoken to you when the lifts hoisted the scouts over the wall and into titan territory, or when the lanterns were the only light that guided them through thick trees.
When the first rays of sunlight fell onto the abandoned city of shiganshina, you stood stoically beside Hange and Moblit. He had missed his window, now it was time to focus on the mission. He could only hope that both himself and you survived.
__
As the morning wore on and the battle turned from bad to worse, you knew that chances of survival became slimmer. The only thing you could do was trust in Hange, Erwin and Armin to form a plan to defeat the Reiner and the beast titan. The colossal had yet to show his face, making you more uneasy. The small victory of bringing down Reiner was short lived as a barrel flew over the wall and the sounds of distance explosions echoed through the walls.
"Bertolt is in there!" Armin screamed as you watched the barrel fly overhead.
"What do we do!?" Connie cried as you flew through the rooftops.
"If he transforms, there will be nothing we can do!" Armin yelled over the wind. Eren's titan jogged ahead as you made your way towards the center of town.
"We have to do something!" You yelled, desperate for a solution. Luckily he didn't immediately transform, instead rushing to Reiner's side and addressing him first.
"I'm going to regroup with Hange!" You said, as Bertolt zipped towards you.
"Hurry!" Jean yelled after you as you flew away, pouring on the speed.
You reached Hange's team to find them struggling with some dysfunctional thunder spears.
"(Y/n)! I'm glad you made it! Was that Bertolt inside of there?" Moblit asked as you landed heavily on the tiled rooftop.
"Yeah, it's him. We don't have long before he transforms. We've got to get back to the kids!" You informed them and they all leapt off of the rooftop, rushing back in the direction that you had come from. You only made it about half way there before a blinding mushroom cloud and a clap of thunder overpowered your senses. Hange reached out for you, snagging your wrist. Moblit pushed the two of you down and you screamed as the blast took him in a blinding light. You and Hange fell down a well, a mess of limbs and tangled gear. You couldn't tell if it was your blood or hers as the two of you laid motionless in the shallow well.
"Hange!" Your ears rang as you shook her desperately. Her face was covered in blood, you could tell that her eye was missing already. You began clawing through your pockets in search of gauze, the taste of iron made you want to gag. With shaky hands, you wrapped her head, covering her exposed eye socket. She woke moments later, hands shooting out to grab you.
"Your face." She groaned, hand falling to rest on your chin as she slowly sat up.
"What's wrong with-" You froze mid sentence when you realized that was why you tasted blood. She dug into her own pocket and produced a needle and some suture. She sewed the large gash, which ran from the apple of your cheek to the corner of your mouth.
"We need to check for survivors." Hange grunted as she bit off the remaining suture, you nodded in agreement.
__
As you stood on the rooftop staring at the two lifeless bodies, you knew immediately who had to be chosen. Hange clutched Mikasa to her chest as the girl cried, tears running off her pale cheeks.
"Levi." You whimpered, his bloodied face turned, eyes wild and tortured.
"Get back, I'm giving the serum to Erwin." He ordered. Floch hauled Eren away from Armin, who's charred skin smoked in the late afternoon sun.
"You can't." You cried, tears stinging the wound on your cheek.
"I will." Levi growled.
"Now leave!" He pulled the syringe out of the case and filled it with the opaque liquid and your chest squeezed painfully.
"But-" Jean's hand closed tightly around your bicep as he began pulling you towards the edge of the roof.
"Let's go." Jean's voice was strangled, and you realized that all of you felt this loss deeply. He needed you to be an adult here, needed some reassurance. So you leaned into him and allowed him to pull you off of the roof, wrapped securely in his arms. As you hugged him and Connie a few rooftops away, the sound of a titan crashing through buildings made you look up. Levi landed near you, head hung low and empty syringe in hand.
The thin beast shoved the screaming boy down its gullet and you gasped when you saw its face. You knew it was Armin, and you felt ashamed at the surge of relief that flowed through you.
__
The sun beat down on your shoulders as you sat beside Sasha on the wall. Levi and Hange had gone with Mikasa and Eren about an hour ago, leaving you in charge of the remaining kids.
"Here they come!" Connie called, pointing excitedly at the group as they used the last of their gas to scale the wall. Levi didn't bother joining the group, instead favoring to walk in the opposite direction. You rushed after him, legs pumping as you ran across the wall. You snagged his wrist and tugged on it gently.
"Levi." You had no words, only able to form his name in a raspy voice.
"I should have chosen Erwin." He said numbly, too weak to even try pulling free of your grasp.
"It's over. We reclaimed Maria. You made a hard choice, I can't say it was the right one but.." Your words failed you as he turned to face you. You had never seen him look so hopeless, lips glued into a frown and eyes searching for validation.
"You did what had to be done." You assured him as you took a step closer, the tips of your boots touching his.
"Did I?" His brows knitted together as your hand slipped into his.
"Yes. You did, you gave us a chance." You slowly leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him. You were surprised when he melted into you, his body pressed close, breath tickling the skin behind your ear. Your hands gripped the harness on his back in an attempt to ground the two of you. He sighed and breathed you in, his own hands coming to rest at the small of your back.
"We'll figure this out." You said into his neck, lips brushing the skin there unintentionally.
"I'm glad....that you survived." He said into your messy hair, which was falling from it's hold. His hand slid from the small of your back to rest between your shoulder blades.
"Me too." You let out a small laugh half sob, allowing a few more tears to slide down your cheeks.
"Let's address those shitty kids." He said as he pulled back, and you nodded, giving him a watery smile as the two of you fell into a matched pace once more.
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banqdanfnfic · 4 years ago
Text
which, as they kiss, consume | jjk
you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend
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pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader
genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut
word count: 4k
warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare
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♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat
♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard
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He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.
“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.
“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.
It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.
The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.
“Are you sure?”
You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.
You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.
For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.
Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.
After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.
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Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.
Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.
The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.
You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.
His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.
“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.
This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.
Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.
To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.
The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.
A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.
He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.
“Hey are you okay?”
You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.
But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.
You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.
“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.
It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.
“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.
“Me too”
It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.
“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”
He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.
“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.
Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.
Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.
Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.
He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.
It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.
Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.
“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.
You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.
You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.
These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder
Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.
After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.
The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.
"I'm going to start", he says shyly.
You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.
It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.
Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.
After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.
"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.
"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.
"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.
Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.
The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.
You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.
You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.
Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.
He fishes out a mirror for you to look.
"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.
"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.
"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.
The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.
Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.
As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.
He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.
He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.
"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you
"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".
He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.
which, as they kiss, consume
"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.
"That's… hot"
You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.
"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.
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His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.
While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.
He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.
As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.
His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.
He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.
Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.
Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.
He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.
You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.
He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.
His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.
Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.
He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.
He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.
He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.
"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.
Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.
"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.
He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.
"Is that fine?"
"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.
He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.
Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.
He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.
In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.
Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.
By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.
"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.
"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.
He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.
"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.
"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".
You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".
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thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!
★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)
★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist
★ banner & boards: by me :)
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a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.
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© banqdanfnfic 2021, all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.
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kurogane-redfox · 1 year ago
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She was right about that. He liked it when she was her real self around him and not pretending to be who she wasn't. He preferred her to be herself over who she was "supposed" to be. He didn't care that she wasn't 'perfect wife' material because to him she was perfect just how she was.
He spent a lot of time in the mountains so him having that scent clinging to his person along with the metallic scent he had normally would make sense to him. Of course, he wouldn't know about how she felt regarding how he smelled because it'd not come up as a conversation topic. He also wasn't just going to ask about her smelling him either. It was only fair since he'd sniffed her.
Juvia might have traced his arm scars but she'd never tried to. He'd comforted her for a while before she found her own happiness. While he was happy for her finding that, he'd been kind of hurt that their time together was just ended like that. No word just her moving on. He understood though and no longer dwelled on it. Besides, he has someone he can focus every ounce of his attention on and he intended on doing so.
His eyes would follow her as she stretched and he'd then get up before taking her hand. Compared to his hers were quite small but that wasn't surprising. He was a giant of a man after all. Especially when compared to a vast majority of the rest of the guild. Not only in height but in build. His size made sense when one thought of his magic though.
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"Glad to hear that you like the idea. I have a book on my bedside table already that I've been readin',"
He actually read a lot when he was home. It helped to keep his mind occupied. He did wonder, though, how would Lucy react to the size of his house and all the work he put into it? He'd built the house himself, every bit of stained wood he'd done himself, INCLUDING the wood floors. She'd likely notice things that were certainly made by him too, the iron accents in the various rooms.
He had a feeling he was going to be purring a LOT with her. Because she honestly made him incredibly HAPPY. Which he'd already told her. He was the happiest when he was at her side.
"I'll be sure to message ya so I don't just stop by outta the blue. If yer ever on a job I can check on any of yer indoor plants and do some cleanin' if it's needed too. So when ya get back ya have a clean place to lay down."
What a lot of people didn't think was just how CLEAN he was. His house was impeccable, though he still apologized for 'the mess' if he ever had some of his projects out on the coffee table but his home was never a disaster area like most people would assume a single man lived in. Dragon or not, he was a neat person.
She knew that he liked her best when she was being herself around him, at least she assumed. That front that she had worked so hard to build, the version of her that had to be perfect, none of that mattered around him, and she knew that.
She couldn't smell much besides his scent at the surface, but what she could smell she adored. The smell of mountain air, mixed with a hint of metal from his magic. She'd take her own time just smelling him now. His scent invaded her every sense, and she found herself getting lost in it. Getting lost in everything that was him.
The fact that she was the first to do that, it didn't surprise her. He hadn't let anyone close enough to do so. She thought maybe Juvia could have done so before, but she had been proven wrong. She wondered if he'd let her rub his muscles whenever he got back from a job whenever the opportunity arose. She was sure he wouldn't tell her no, she still wanted to get his permission first.
Lucy would nod before getting up from where she sat on him, stretching a bit before she'd wait for him to get up as well, taking his hand in hers, albeit his nearly swallowed hers whole, but she liked that. It made her feel secure, like no harm could come to her whenever they were together like this. He would protect her, she was sure of it, just like she would do the same for him.
"I like the sound of that." The idea of them reading together, it was another thing that was incredibly intimate to Lucy. The idea of them reading their respective books, while their legs tangled up and she was cuddled into his side, that was a mental picture that she would replay over and over again.
She'd have to keep that one in her back pocket. Should the opportunity arise, she'd want to hear it again. The idea that she was the reason he was making those noises, it sent a feeling inside of her that she couldn't quite pinpoint, but that she loved regardless.
"Since I'm getting a key to your place, it's only fair that you have one for mine too." She wanted him to have one, for him to be able to let himself in and come and go as he pleased. It would especially be good for days where she was too sick from staying up all night to make it to the guild. Granted, she knew he wouldn't let himself in without her permission, but she could easily message him on her lacrima device to let him know what the situation was.
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